The Folly
by Wyndswept
Summary: The Folly is simple yet complex- Emily, main character, a girl in her late teens, is the daughter of the Norse goddess Hel, who is mysteriously inadvertent about the entirety of her existence. Emily has the unnatural ability to force the hand of Karma, thus resulting in either polarized outcomes. Rather recently, it has killed someone, specifically a cohort.
1. Pre-Chapter 1 Prologue

**Prologue**

Darkness- enveloping the small, tiny mind trapped inside the warm, comforting prison in which it was created. It made the mind feel safe, and secure. The Mind didn't want to leave where it was; wherever it was. Its disposition towards the environment around it was quite satisfied. Though suddenly, it felt the support beneath give away; and there was no escaping what was to come, no matter which way it thought. With a blast of harsh white light, the Mind came into this world. With the light, omnipotent in its persistence, came a pain, and the Mind screamed with its entire will- thrashing and swinging wildly in the cold, still air. Almost as soon as the freezing winds had come, a kind, benevolent hand wrapped it in a comfortable sheath, calming the wind, making it feel like a warm summer day. As if the Mind was staring into the sun, taking in its warmth, altogether blocking out the harshness of the glare. It felt movement through the air. As it moved, a face came into view. The Mind could not quite make it out, but as the person touched the Mind, it felt calm. It felt safe, and secure. Feeling around, trying to grip some viable surface, the Mind concluded with physical process of elimination, that it was a woman who was holding it. It didn't know how or why it was a woman, but that was the word that came to it. _Woman._ As the Mind lay in the woman's chest, it heard something. A beat, a rhythm. This beat, this rhythm, was a pulsating loveliness. Each time it came, and subsequently went, it soothed the Mind into a beloved trance. The Mind could make out the woman's face now; it could make out everyone's face. Their faces were all blank, muddy. The Mind looked around, searching. Perched on the window sill behind the woman, sat a bird man. The Mind did not know what the man was, or what it wanted. The only things the Mind could conclude were the bright red gems, glinting and sparkling in their glorious thrones upon its slender head, it had for daring, darting eyes. The bird man spoke, its voice booming across the room like a shockwave. The people in the room dissipated, and the room itself, disappeared into oblivion. The bird man and the Mind lay in the same room made of a grey and dingy substance. It was sticky, and the mind felt as if it was in a bubble made of clay. He spoke, and with it sounded as if a million voices were speaking behind it,

"_You_, you are a being made of me, my _little creation_."

The Mind looked at the bird man, confused. He mused further,

"Do not exhaust yourself tiny, tiny one. I am sending you into this cruel world because I can. I own this place, and even though not everyone seems to think so, in the end... everyone comes to me."

His mouth was decorated savagely with lines of pointy, needle, razor sharp teeth. His smile was horrific.

"Eventually."

The sullen cave suddenly transformed into a vast night sky, as black and sundering as his coat of feathers.

The bird man Stretched his wings high into night and as he flew high into the pitch-dark chasm, an unending blackness following its cragged path. Inside the bird man's wings, the Mind could see thousands of faces, thousands of people, all tucked under his razor sharp sight.

"You are my child, I give _you_ life. Do with it what you want, but know one thing,"

The mind searched the sky for its new-found creator, but only captured the cruel and violent sound that hammered down from the unending broad expanse of stars,

"You are capable of me."

To no end did the child unsettle her. Who in their right mind, would drop—what looked like, a four month old infant on _anyone's_ front door step? Mind-boggled and confused, Brenda shuffled over to her kitchen window with the child in her arms, and peered through the stained glass window. Her husband, Jeff, was pulling in the drive way. Blinking away the curiosity, she surprised herself with the obvious. She pulled herself together, ushering to their bedroom, she placed the child slowly down on the bed, and hushed it to sleep. She jogged to the foyer of her Victorian-styled home, and observed her husband walking in the front door, looking oddly fresh, and reborn. She eased him in, took off his jacket, and placed it loosely on a metal-wire hanger in the coat closet.

"I'm glad you're home," Brenda gave Jeff A giant hug, and looked him in the eye to determine his mood, "You must be starving."

He nodded exactly, and went with his wife to the large, old-styled kitchen. She turned to her husband and leaned against the shiny hard-wood counter top "I already ate, I made Roast beef, with mashed potatoes and fresh biscuits," She paused while getting it out of the refrigerator. "I hope that's enough?"

Her husband smiled dozily, and chucked softly, "Of course it's ok. I'm lucky to have all the things you do, and I don't want you thinking it's ever not good enough."

She put the dish in the oven to heat it, and sat down at the round, oak table her husband was sitting squarely in. She grabbed his hand, and nodded her head as if to ask a silent question. In Jeff's work bag, a white book with a stark cover laid poking out of the front pouch.

"Oh, I just picked it up on my way home. A little present for you," He smiled once more, "I thought you would like it."

He pulled the book out of his bag, and handed it to his wife, who opened up the book to find a card. Inside, the description of the card read, "_To all those days when it was hard to hold on, and to all those days when it was easy to let go,"_ In formal, cursive writing, Jeff wrote, "_I know we've been through a lot lately, but I hope this book, and my love, can lighten the load a bit." _

Brenda looked at the cover of the book, and gasped with delight as she read the name of the Author. "_Michael Scott." _Subsequently, looking up at her husband with tiny, glass like tears at the corner of her eyes, she pressed the book against her chest, and sighed. "I love you, Jeff."

When Jeff was finished eating, he cleaned his plate off and slid it in the shiny, stainless steel dish-washer. Before he could make to his room, Brenda stopped him with a reassured hand, "Wait, wait, wait, I have a secret to show you."

She smiled at her husband. Standing behind him, clasping his eyes, she led him to their room. Stopping at the doorway, she let go of Jeff's head. Lying silently before the man was a small, innocent child. Before he could speak but a word, Brenda put her chin on his shoulder and sighed, "She's meant to be ours Jeff. I just know it..."

She waited for Jeff to speak. She turned to see Large, thick tears forming around his eyes, crippling his dense eyebrows. "She is…She's…" Brenda stepped aside, allowing Jeff to slowly walk up and sit down beside the baby. He leaned in, looking at her directly. "She's beautiful_" _He whispered to her, as he sat staring awestruck at the child. Her eyes suddenly came fluttering open, without a doubt in her tiny, small mind; she smiled. Jeff let out an exaggerated laugh, and tears sprinkled their way down his pale cheeks, dripping lightly on the surface of the silky smooth blanket covering their bed.

Taking extreme care to not rustle the soft child with his hands, he lifted her over to a chaise covered in soft, ornamental, linen blankets. Brenda sat with Jeff, the infant cradled in his arms, and looked at him with happiness. Her hand moved along Jeff's forearm to regard the baby girl with her fingertips, allowing the girl to half-blindly grab them, and insert them into her small mouth.

"No, no, no, that's not where fingers belong, silly girl!" Jeff glanced at Brenda and implored her for a more reasonable explanation as to how the child appeared, and was so suddenly claimed theirs. Brenda placed her soft hand on Jeff's and looked deep into his eyes, letting the question sink into her perception of the event. Even she had a hard time grappling the thought of someone leaving a perfectly normal—if not exceptionally adorable—child on her front porch. Never the less, she had a perfect excuse in her own terms.

"While you were at work," She paused, looking down at the child's delicate, small hands. "I was having my usual afternoon bath. I had already made dinner, and eaten. I got out of the bath, and I heard a strange noise. It sounded like someone was whispering, and then it turned into a gurgle. I opened the door, and this is what I found."

Brenda rubbed the back of her hand across the child's face, making it smile and squirm in delight all the same. "I know this is sudden, but can't we just try?" Jeff shifted slightly uncomfortable, still staring at the infant. "What if somebody comes, Brenda?" Without an answer, Brenda got up and milled about the room for a few minutes.

She turned to look at Jeff, and spoke with an apprehensive tone "The question I'm asking, is why anyone would do something like this." She sat down on the bed, in front of him. "Maybe this was meant to happen. Maybe we are supposed to raise her." Jeff looked up at her, with an odd expression on his face, an expression Brenda had never seen before. "You think so?"

Brenda smiled, sitting down where she had sat before. "I'm certain. I can feel it."


	2. Chapter One- The Queen of Flies

**Chapter one- Queen of the Flies**

It was late in the day- Emily had left her last class and was at her locker now, facing into the glossy metal recess that carried her belongings; she held her cell phone close, texting rapidly. Throughout Emily's life, she had been subjugated to social torture and ridicule. As such, it was no surprise to her when she caught onto the ominous gossip emitting from the group of preppy, blonde girls standing about ten feet down the hallway. Hearing her name every ten seconds was usual. Emily finished texting and shoved her phone into her bag, sliding her "_World History_" text book along with her binder in the large slot adjacent to where she put her cell phone; easily accessible, in case of required bludgeoning.

Before she could make her awaited escape, one of the girls from the group down the hallway shuffled towards her, and stopped close enough for Emily to see the beauty mark just above her lip. _Disgusting _Emily thought, as she semi-cringed. "Hi" the girl stuttered. Emily put on her nice face, reluctantly.

She stopped for a moment, glancing at the group-that was watching her closely- then glancing back at the girl. "You're being brave today," Emily mused "you usually come in packs."

"What?" The girl spoke, seemingly dumbfounded. "I'm just saying hi, _jeez_"

Emily stood there for about three seconds. She gave the girl an evil stare before she slammed the locker with no trouble, slung her _Master_ lock into position, and strode carelessly out of the hallway. As Emily turned, ready to move headlong out of the situation, the girl squealed "Wait!"

Emily asked herself why she should even look back at this girl. She didn't care at all what she had to say. However, despite her hate for the girl, _and_ _for some very odd_—_yet clearly common reason_, Emily spun around on the heel of her foot. She raised an eyebrow to show acknowledgement. The girl nodded, and carried on. "Want to hang out sometime? Maybe go to the mall with me and my friends?" The girl gave an innocent smile, while looking back. The flies all waved and said hello in unison.

Emily stood there. "You're _kidding_."

The girl narrowed her eyes, and placed both her hands on her hips, clearly offended. "No, my friends and I think you're nice and we want to start hanging out with you." She waited for a reply, almost driven to the point of extreme annoyance as Emily carefully discerned her options. "Well?" Emily looked long into the girl's eyes. She could be lying.

"I'll think about it" Emily said just as she swung the huge metal door open, and moved down the unending, filthy flight of stairs.

"Okay! See you later!" The girl yelled down the stairwell, cut off by the loud slam of the closing door. The blonde girl swiveled her body to face the group. She smiled profusely, and spoke In a slow, monotone accent, followed by laughter all the same. "_Perfect_."

Emily sat, non-chelate, on the city bus, contemplating what she had just witnessed, even with it in all its simplicity. Although Emily severely judged the girls for their past behavior, deep down all she wanted was to belong. "That's normal right?" She whispered to herself, suddenly unaware that she was on a public bus, and anyone could be listening. Emily caught an elderly woman staring at her out of the corner of her eye.

Emily glanced quickly at the old woman, and gave a smile. The woman smiled back, and spoke with an odd lisp, one Emily had never heard before, and could almost make out as hissing.

"_It's only normal if what you're thinking about is within the parameter of you"_

She put her hand on Emily's shoulder and sat in her seat beside Emily for about 4 seconds, staring at her with a gleeful smile, before getting up and shuffling off the bus.

Emily sat there, watched the woman walk down the grimy street, and then disappear as the bus turned a corner. "Thank you." Emily rasped, coughing to clear her throat.

Sitting quietly in her room, Emily reviewed her "_World History_" Textbook, re-reading the notes she had written in class. Emily tapped her pen lightly against her lips, and pondered on what she had been pondering all day.

_I'm going to give this my best shot, and I'm not going to let my problems get in the way this time. Maybe they really do like me, but I'll never know unless I give them a chance._

The next day Emily walked to the bus, and when she arrived at school, she realized that if she didn't take this chance-whichever god forbid it even came- it may never come again. Emily grinned to herself, because the more she thought about it, the more she convinced herself that the girls weren't all that bad. Something everyone knows, leads to trouble.

At her locker, the blondes crowded around her like moths to a flame. "I love your _hair!_", "I love that outfit, you should wear it more often!", "Wow, you're so _gorgeous!" _For the first time in Emily's seemingly long life, she felt happy. Accepted. Pretty. When the chaos had ended, and the crowd had shifted behind Emily, one of her only friends strode up to her, with an attractive, boyish smile on his face. _Seth, _Emily thought to herself.

"Hey Emily, how's it going? And uh, what's up with _that?"_

"What, the crowd? You tell me" Emily cracked an innocent grin. "Well, that doesn't matter. Walk to class with me."

Getting her books, Emily walked with Seth to her Anthropology class. As she turned around, she caught Seth staring back at the group, squinting at the girls as they looked back at him. Emily sensed there was some type of invisible battle occurring between the frequencies of fighting eyes.

"Want to let me know what that was about?" Emily narrowed down into Seth's night black eyes.

"It was nothing, but I want to talk to you before you go to class," He laid the words out like he was preparing Emily for something she wasn't going to like. "About _those_, Emily".

Emily looked back at the group, moving slowly down the hall. She stood, all of her weight on her left foot "What is it?" Seth tucked his books up under his arm and looked at the ground for a while. "I want you to be careful" Emily glanced at him suddenly, trying to look into his face.

Looking surprised, Emily spoke, "What? Are you ok?" Seth waited for a moment, before looking up at her. Emily instantly knew what the problem was, so she sat down with him in the hallway, and grabbed his hand.

"Seth, I promise I won't let them hurt me. They _can't _hurt me. I'm indestructible, remember?" Emily looked at him kiddingly, waiting for a reply.

"Just promise me you'll think about _everything_ they say and promise you." Emily sat there and played with her curly dark brown hair. What Seth was saying is _exactly _what she was thinking on the bus the day before, when the old lady spoke to her.

Emily held out her pinky and smiled at Seth, "I pinky promise".

Seth looked at her and chuckled. "Ok, pinky promise." He looked at her for a few moments. In his mind, Seth thought of Emily as a tough, beautiful, independent girl who deserved better than this world had to offer.

He loved her deeply, and Emily had a decent understanding of that. To her, Seth was intelligent, smart, and very tactical. Always thinking about things-always planning ahead. Emily sometimes thought of dating him, but never really delved into the thought. If it was truly meant to be, it would happen, somehow.

"Alright, I'm off to math" Seth gave Emily a big hug, and smiled at her once more. Emily waved at him as he strode away, and walked into her Anthropology class to find her teacher, Mr. Lynch, writing the day's debates and assignments on the smart board.

"Hey Mr. Lynch" Emily threw the comment at his feet, free for him to pick up or ignore. He spun on his heel and raised an eyebrow at Emily, smiling at her. "Early for class, I see?" Emily looked up at him. "Yeah, I didn't see any reason for me to delay the inevitable."

Mr. Lynch looked uncertainly at Emily, and looked down at his daily plan for the class, then turning back to the board to write the next instruction. "You're a smart girl Emily." She suddenly looked at him, interested. "Make sure you're aware that you can only trust the people you know, and if you don't follow your gut, you'll end up in the biggest mistake of your life. Once they grip a choke hold, I doubt they'll find the strength to let go. I'd hate to see you end up like some of these other students like mine."

Emily semi-smiled at the tall, built teacher. "Thanks Mr. Lynch."

As the lesson progressed, Emily glanced at the clock. _Still another 45 minutes until the class ends. _Emily tuned into the current argument, which was unfortunately about "God". Emily was disgusted with the stereo-types religion painted on different people, so she decided to join in, on the side many would ironically label _Atheism_ out of ignorance to the actual meaning of the word, but was actually just an open-minded view side.

Emily seemed to have dropped in on a very opinionated student's ramble, "What I don't understand is how those priests or _fathers _think they have a right to tell people how to live their lives. And gays? What the hell's wrong with them? I don't understand the whole, _its unhealthy_ deal. At least they don't go around wearing mini-skirts selling themselves." The student took a breath, clearly feeling satisfied, and waited for reply.

"It _seems_ you're not the only one with an opinion, Bobby. Why don't you let someone else take a shot at the other team?" Mr. Lynch spoke to the boy while moving his reading glasses down to his nose to view the over-confident student. He looked around the room for someone who he knew could possibly add to the discussion.

"Emily!" Mr. Lynch exclaimed heavily on her name. "Why don't you join in? What team would you like to root for?" Without a thought passing through her mind, Emily replied simply, "Anti-Jesus, please". Almost instantly after Emily responded, one of the many, snotty Christian girls spoke out of turn, "Obviously". Mr. Lynch shot the girl a warning look. "Enough of that" He snapped.

"Do you have an argument nestled in your head _right now?_" Mr. Lynch poked at the question as if it didn't need to be rushed, which was far from the truth. Emily nodded carefully. "Well, everyone is all ears," Mr. Lynch slowly turned his head, while moving his reading glasses down once more, to look at the Christian girl that had spoken out of turn. "Right Tammy?" The girl rolled her eyes and grunted. "Good." Emily took a moment to think, but it wasn't hard to compile into an opinion, "I think it's obvious that whether or not there is a god, everyone dies in the end. Some people may believe they go to heaven, some people just don't care. This all revolves around one simple principle; _Keep your opinion to yourself. _Religion permits churches for a reason, and atheists, as you would call them, even though atheism refers to not believing _anything,_ prefer to be left alone about it."

Contrarily, a student from the other team spoke thereafter, Mr. Lynch leaning back against his desk in the far left corner of the room, letting it happen as if he were turning on a sink. "At least we have something to call our own when we pass. If you don't know what happens after you die, then you can't form an actual opinion. Are you trying to tell me that atheists hold onto nothing as a claim against god?"

Emily Grinned a wide smile, as she knew the perfect counter attack, "First, why don't you stop calling me an atheist, and call me something relevant, like optimist or _I-don't-hate-it-I-just-have-no-proof_. Give me proof that there is a heaven. Give me a reason to not believe a person isn't a ticking clock, and when the time runs thin, death will be there to greet them with open arms; in whatever form the person wants death to take. You might think death is heaven, but to some people death is death."

Subsequently, the bell rang and most of the students quickly flooded to their next class. Emily took her time to gather her things and check her phone. Before she was able to walk out of class, the boy that had argued with her walked up to her, demanding her attention.

Emily looked up at the boy, clearly in a hurry. "Yes?" Emily rushed the comment along. The boy smiled, and placed his hands behind his back to assume such a manly stature. Ironically, despite her self-ramble about labels, Emily took joy in calling him a Jesus freak in the back of her mind.

"I just want you to know that you're wasting your time with that stupid opinion of death you hold onto. Do you honestly think _that's_ how it works?"

He spat his comment out at Emily, and she felt it hit her face. Emily looked into his eyes and saw the fear as she stepped into him. Her eyes locked onto his, she put her books in front of her and pushed hard, forcing him to the side.

When she spoke, she had a dark tone about her "Try me."

Behind them, Mr. Lynch chuckled at the stupidity of his student. "Brandon, you're such an idiot"

In Emily's next class, she sat down and opened up her books. _Math. _Emily sighed. This was going to be a long class. For the next hour and forty five minutes Emily thought of Seth. She was worried that _Seth_ had worried too much about _her._ She didn't want that, she wanted him to breathe easy. Aside from her conflicted feelings for Seth, she still cared a lot about what happened to him.

The first afternoon bell rang, and it was time for lunch. Or for some people, Emily included, time to go to the theatre room to chat and relax. She dropped her books off at her locker and looked around for Seth. He was nowhere to be seen. Emily looked down the hallway and saw the group of girls heading down the hallway. _I'm going to leave this for later _she decided, and snuck to the door without attracting the attention of the group. She made her way down stairs towards the theater room. Maybe Seth was at his locker?

As she went down the stairs, Emily saw the door to the theater room, and knew that Seth's locker was in the hallway at the other end of the school. She quickly strode down to look for Seth, but he was nowhere to be found here either. Assuming the obvious at the time, Emily fled to the Theatre room. When Emily walked in, she was greeted by numerous acquaintances, though unfortunately not Seth's. She stood for a moment, looking around, thinking.

Seth could have gone home, but why would he have done that? She remembered what he had said this morning. Perhaps he was just afraid for me? She shrugged the ominous curiosity off, and sat down in one of the theatre chairs. Thirty minutes pass, and Seth walked in, something clearly bothering him. Emily tilted her head, and squinted at him. She waved at him, and he came over; sitting down beside her.

"I've been looking all over for you" Seth chuckled the remark to find Emily Staring at him intently, "What?"

Emily smiled at him. "Nothing," She replied. "Where did you go? I looked for you too." Seth sat and looked forward for a moment.

"You must have gone down as I went up. I looked for you at you're locker too" Emily nodded. "Oh well, at least you're not dead." Seth half laughed, "Yeah, at least."

The rest of _lunch_ went as it usually did. Chatter and conversation. Although Emily didn't know many of the people there, they treated her like she was one of their own. Before lunch ended, one of the boys in the drama club was talking to his friends about a play they had to do, and then got up and asked if it was okay with everyone if he practiced it. Emily nodded with Seth and the rest of the theatre, practically.

The boy concluded the play with a poem, specifically one that caught Emily's attention,

_"It's Death again – He's always there –_

_Watching, waiting – e'er the stare!_

_Every time I look behind_

_Or reach to pull the window blind,_

_I catch a glimpse of grubby hood –_

_A little clue to where he stood;_

_The glint of light that caught the scythe._

_Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…_

_But O! No use, he'll never go._

_The adamant phantom; don't you know_

_He will but wait until it's time_

_For me to hear His fateful chime? –_

_The toll that claims my destiny,_

_To Hail: 'You're next, it has to be…"_

Her first afternoon session, Emily had English, which was her favorite class. She loved to write, but never tried to do so creatively. She could write a killer essay or news report, though. Her English teacher, Mrs. McCullough, was the nicest lady she had ever known in her high-school career. She was more of a friend than a teacher, she liked to go to everyone individually to see their talents for what they were; she didn't talk to hear herself.

"Ok guys, good news. We're not doing work today!" Emily smiled at her teacher. "Instead we're watching _The Giver_ for its apocalyptic feel, since that _is _what we're doing our essays about."

The movie was about a boy who was born to become a giver. A giver, in the movie, is someone who houses emotions. The people born into the community-the ones not picked to become givers- are not allowed to feel things such as sadness, or happiness. A terrible fate, Emily thought as the movie progressed, it was still just a movie.

When the film ended with the bell, Emily gave Mrs. McCullough her daily high-five, and walked to her last class, World History. It was the subject she got the best grades in, because unlike most people, she showed a particular interest in it. She wished she had lived in the Second World War, or during the Trojan War. This was notably the only class she had with Seth. He was already there when she walked in, so she took her place beside him. She put her books down and looked over at him.

He was staring at something in his lap. She gave him a nudge, which almost startled him out of his seat. "_Oh, _hey! You scared me" Emily gave him an odd look. "Sorry, I was just thinking about something. I didn't mean to _not_ say hi."

Emily smiled. "That's alright." Emily looked around the room. Everyone was up and chatting, visiting their friends before the bell rang.

Emily found it amusing how every time the teacher came about, they scrambled like terrified mice, to their seats. Almost as if on cue, Mr. Gerald waltzed in and everyone fled to their assigned seats. He quickly looked to his attendance list, then back to the class.

"Good everyone is _here_, that's easier for me, _and you._ You're all going to have a two page essay due Monday, on the Second World War. The subtopic is your choice, but it has to be something relevant to our chapter. Got it?" Everyone nodded in unison, and Mr. Gerald smiled at the obedience of his class. "Now, everyone studies quietly for the rest of class. I have to go to a workshop, so Mr. Lynch will be looking after you all."

Emily silently triumphed. She liked Mr. Lynch. As Emily pulled out her binder, and opened up to her history notes, Seth got up to grab a planning sheet. Emily saw another boy in the class watching him, and as he got up, Emily caught the hint. Something was going to happen_, _and she didn't like the vibe.

As Seth went to the front, the boy came up behind him and left enough space between them for Seth to, all but, turn around. As Seth turned around, the boy put his hand against Seth's chest and pushed hard. Emily also found it amusing how people underestimated Seth. He was fairly built, and tall. She noted the boys struggle to move him.

Seth creased his eyebrows at the boy, and Emily could see something was going to happen if she didn't step in. Swiftly, Emily made her way towards the front of the room just as she noticed the boys hand clench into a fist, ready to launch at Seth. Emily grabbed the boy by the wrist and inserted herself between the two before he could try, whilst Seth backed up to allow her room to sand toe to toe with him.

Emily grabbed a sheet and shoved it into the boy's chest. "Go sit down before you get into something you can't handle, jerk." Emily melted the boy with her rock hard stare, and he fled the scene of the averted incident. Emily grabbed a sheet, and went to her chair.

Seth sat down and started copying things out of the textbook. He was going to do the _Liberation of the Netherlands_. Emily sat with her legs crossed in her ergonomically correct chair, and thought about what she wanted to write. Distracted, she turned to Seth.

"I didn't want to ask but, now I can't help it. What was that about?" Seth put his pencil down and turned to look at her. Emily noticed the trouble that clouded in his eyes. He did something, and was probably going to live to regret it after school.

"Remember when we met up at the theater room earlier?" Seth prodded her. Emily nodded. "Well, there's a reason I took so long to get there." Emily nodded again, slower this time. She had a thousand things going through her mind.

Seth spoke again, approaching the topic cautiously, "Well, I was up by your locker and happened to see something going on..." Emily smiled. She knew where this was going. "The girls." She concluded. Seth continued, "I walked up to the girl in the middle, the one _leaning_ against your locker" Emily's eyes widened. Seth half hung his head, and pressed on. "I told her that if anything ever happened to you, she'd better watch her step."

Emily sat back, observing and assessing the situation. "That boy is her boyfriend no doubt?" Seth nodded, and turned to find the boy glaring furiously at him. "He's a Cretan, don't even look at him" Emily shook her head in disapproval. "The only reason he's that pissed is because you make him look like a pompous idiot if he can't take care of his own property. That's how he treats women. It's disgusting_."_

Seemingly, from the dense chasm of a hallway, Mr. Lynch strode into the class on his watch and slammed the door shut, silencing everyone. Emily smiled at him, and waved. Mr. Lynch smiled back, and lowered his glasses to regard Seth, who was writing intently just like everyone else. Mr. Lynch sat down at Mr. Gerald's desk and played with his cheap, plastic pen until the bell chimed the end of last period. After reminding everyone about their assignment, he tossed the pen back, letting it hit the desk, toppling countless sorted reports and spilling a half empty coffee cup. He looked at the desk with his glasses, and then back to Emily and Seth. "Oops".

Emily parted from her last class, and was stopped by Seth before she could make it down the hallway. He looked at her; the shape of his thick, dark eyebrows spoke for him. He was worried that Emily was going to get hurt.

Emily grabbed his arm and pulled him into a hug, as she whispered into his ear, "I won't let them do _anything_, and if they do..." Emily stopped and thought for a second. "You know what I'll do." She gave a weak smile before kissing him on the cheek. Seth watched her walk away, and even though Emily promised him, something in his gut told him he would shudder on to regret what was going to transpire.

The next day, Emily was preparing herself for yet another day of personal hell, and her Foster-mother, Brenda, walked in-leaning against the frame of her door- smiling joyfully at her. "You look great today Emily," Her makeshift mother evaluated. "Do you have something important going on?" Emily took a few seconds to slowly brush her curly dark brown hair.

She had been up since five this morning, styling her hair to make it perfect to her preference. "No, I just felt like putting in effort today."

Emily smiled, and grabbed her bag. Brenda tilted her head at her, and popped her neck back as if she had an idea, "How about I drive you to school today? I have nothing to do all morning." Emily stopped for a moment and was quickly raptured by the idea. She was happy she didn't have to endure the smelly, grimy city bus. Joyous, even.

In the car, Emily threw her bag in the back seat and sat in the front, casually chatting with her voluntary guardian. As she drove by a street on the way to school, Emily noticed the pack of blondes steadily making their way to the school as well, and received a giant wave of hands as they noticed her drive by.

Emily reluctantly waved back. Brenda glanced at the girls, and then to Emily; a bewildered expression pressed hard onto her face. "May I ask...?"

Emily laughed at her, enough to make her bend forward in tickling pain. "What, I can't have friends? They apparently like me." Brenda parked her car close to the entrance of the modern, stark looking school.

As Emily was pulling the door open, emerging from the car, Brenda inserted "Before you go, I want you to know something." Emily closed the door she had opened, and sat down, prepared for a lecture. Instead she received a warm warning.

"There will always be people in this cruel world that live to manipulate you. They will grab the end of that slippery, wet carpet and pull their hardest, hoping you'll fall flat on your face." Emily snickered and let Brenda finish. "Be careful of those girls, Emily. It's best to stay off the carpet in the first place." Emily sighed jokingly, before looking up at Brenda with her bright Hazel eyes. Brenda half-smiled at Emily as she closed the door. She sat there, in her car, for a few moments, watching Emily make her way into the school. She shook her head, as if to dispel a thought, and drove out of the parking lot, wishing she had kept her home that day.


End file.
